Love story in machine

So a week has passed, Dima and Emil are flying to Moscow. Upon arrival, the most important thing for Dima was to throw all the footage onto a work disk and mount it if possible. When the time on the clock was 23:09, Dima and Emil had just arrived in Moscow, at 00:34 they were already in the office. Not noticing how the time flew by until 02:47, Dima was interrupted by Emil's gentle and affectionate voice: "Why aren't you sleeping? Have you seen the time at all?" Not hoping that Dima would go to bed, Emil decided to cheat and lure Dima to bed with a sweet one: "Go to bed, there's a sweet pie waiting for you," Emil said with a slight hint of himself, not expecting Dima to ask: "And the pie is at least with some filling?". Emil stopped dead in his tracks, wondering what to say. Turning and fixing his gaze on Emil, Dima realized what Emil was hinting at and asked: " I understand that if I come up, then there won't be a pie there, but only you?" Emil did not lose his head and replied: " Of course, it will take several centuries before you get there, and you know how the pie beckons, so you have to go faster." Dima decided to clarify whether there was a pie at all: "Or was there no pie at all, and speaking of a pie, did you mean yourself?" Emil answered without hesitation:"Yes, I meant to myself that I am a pie, so sweet and inviting." Dima:"What kind of pie are you?!" Emil: "Sweet and inviting." Dima just shook his head negatively and covered his face with his hand. Emil: "Or do you want to say that I'm not a pie for you." Dima: "Letov sang about a fruitless pie, it's obviously not about you..." EMIL:" Why is that?!" Dima: "Because you're a show-off pie, and you don't look like a pie either." Emil: "Then who do you think I am?" Dima: "Idiot." EMIL:" I didn't mean that! If I'm not a pie, then who am I, let's not joke." DIMA:" Gopnik. And of course an idiot." Emil: "Fuck that mother, Dima!" Dima: "That's right, Dima, I basically said everything." Emil: "Let's keep it simple, who am I from the bakery outpourings?" Dima: "Definitely not a pie..." Emil: "Think faster already..." Dima: "And you're a punky-gopnik-pie there, don't be indignant, and so you fucked up with a pie, let's not fuck me with your bread, well, let there be a bun with cinnamon, or apple jam." Emil: "So anyway, am I a cinnamon bun or a bun with apple jam?" Dima: "He fucked me with his buns and pies, fuck knows what he wants from me, well, there will be a bun with apple jam." Emil: "Well, then a bun with apple jam is waiting for you in bed;)".